Promised
by kurt couper
Summary: Complete. Spike promised two years ago that it was her and him until the end of the world. But Spike lied and Dawn can't seem to forget that. SpikeDawn.
1. Prologue

Title: Promised  
Author: KurtCouper  
Rating: R  
Pairing(s): Spike/Dawn Friendship, maybe more  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.  
Summary: Spike promised two years ago that it was her and him until the end of the world. But Spike lied and Dawn can't seem to forget that.

A/N: This is WIP as of now. There's talk of drug use, alcohol abuse, and sex references in this fic.

A/N: This is AU. Spike is not souled nor did he rape Buffy. This is set two years from the middle-ish of season 6. He and Buffy continue to sleep together. And Dawn is a senior in high school at 18.

-----

**Prologue**

_My empty promises  
led to our demise  
And I could never tell you how I really feel  
And for that I eternally apologize_

_3685-_ The Spill Canvas

The house was dark-silent-still-the brunette noted as she sneakily crept her way to it. It looked nothing more than a suburban house, filled with the typical mother, father, and 2.5 kids. So it was ridiculous to think that just behind that off-white door that more than ten people resided there, all who saves the world. Well, all those ten plus people that save the world minus her-the world destroyer. She can admit that, right? That she is the only one without training in the mornings, duties in the afternoons, patrolling at night. She was the one who slacked off cleaning duty, hid when it came to laundry folding, and snuck her way out the house nearly nightly. She didn't mean to boast either, but _damn_ was she good at what she did. She mused that Faith might have given her a wink of appreciation, but she was trying too hard to get into the Scooby gang. And Spike would have been proud too, if they were on speaking terms and, well hell, being-in-the-same-room terms. Looking into the sky, the night a little lighter from the sun's almost rising, she realized that she didn't want to ruin her amazing night with the thoughts of Spike.

So here she is, on the balls of her bare feet, pushing up the less noisy of the windows in the house up. The straps of her heels were clinched in her mouth, dangling slightly as she blindly stepped a long leg into the house. Once feeling the cushy feel of the rug between her toes, she crouched her body down and easily slid her other foot through the window. With a mental dance of glee, the brunette shimmied the window back down to its place. With a quiet click she turned around and smiled to herself.

That is, until the light turned on to reveal a smirking Kennedy, a worried Xander, and an extremely pissed of Slayer.

Dawn mentally sighed and pushed her hair away from her face. "Buffy-let me explain," she started out, her mind trying to combine together twisted fabrics of stories until they made a perfect quilt in her brain. "I was-"

The blonde cut her off with a mere raise of her hand. "I don't want to hear it, Dawn," she started out, her voice rehearsed and deep. Dawn could tell that there was a river of fury lying too close to the surface. "This is the third time this month I have been told of your little escapes." Dawn cut a quick glance to the smug slayerette Kennedy and promised a dirty revenge later. That bitch was always against her. "... can't take it anymore. You're grounded."

Dawn twisted her face into outrage and protested. Her sister could just _not_ do this. The brunette was pretty sure that it was illegal in at least five states! "Grounded! I'm 18!" she cried, frustrated. Buffy rolled her eyes. "I can vote and go to war...and call sex hot lines _and_ you want to ground me?"

With a mere eyebrow raise from the Slayer, Dawn knew she had lost. There was no winning with any Slayer, Scooby, or Slayer in Training. It was her against _them_, all of them. It seemed to always be that way. As anger bubbled within her, she threw all in the room an evil stare and marched out. Yet not before she threw down the "borrowed" scuffed shoes in the process. Petty? She knew that, but it was all satisfaction that ran through her blood when she heard her sister bitch and moan, calling her all the four letter words she knew, as the brunette sauntered to her room up the stairs.

Dawn bubbled giddily as she closed her bedroom door. Being grounded was, seriously, the least of her problems resulting from the night. She could have been force to tell Buffy where she was and exactly what she was doing. Of course, she could have lied like she had on so many other events, but drunken lies never do make sense when told at four in the morning.

Humming a song that she had heard earlier that night, she begun to undress herself. It was late, well _early_, and she was tired. Exhausted, really. The night had truly worn her out. Her friends had picked her up early, ten or so, with their devilish smiles promising an exciting night. They had headed to LA with a mission-to get trashed and find boys. And they all fulfilled their missions, especially her, who found a hot college student, abroad from Spain. He whispered sweet Spanish nothings into her ear: "_Te adoro, novia_." And by Monday, she was changing her lifelong passion to study Spanish. The night was perfect, filled with fruity drinks, laughing, and a number exchange. So it didn't bother her too much that she was stuck in the Summers' Correctional Facility. Since everyone was too busy with training and such, no one really looked over her thus she was free to do whatever.

The brunette yawned, overcome by her exhaustion, and stretched gracefully as she slipped into her chilly sheets. Her bed felt like heaven as she wiggled around to find just the right spot. This was probably the best thing about her room-her bed. It was something that her mother had bought right before she had...died. And the longest nights of her life were spent on the very bed, pouring her sorrows into the sheets. Even Spike's own sadness was settled in the very weave of the fabric during _that_ Summer.

...Spike...

Sighing, Dawn wrapped herself tightly in the covers and closed her eyes. She had promised herself she wouldn't think of Spike. It wasn't as if he was wasting his thoughts on her, so she swore to herself that she wouldn't waste hers on him, either. It seemed like a fair trade, but it was just so _damned_ hard! Wherever she went, she saw a spot that used to be _theirs_ or something that reminded her of him and it seemed that her heart broke just a little more.

Rolling over to her other side, the former key mentally kicked herself. She just would _not_ discuss Spike. She will not talk of him, to him, or even near him.

"But he promised..." she whispered before she even realized . Scolding herself, she sighed and licked her lips. Dawn tried to close her eyes once again. The world was only a little spiny as she settled herself into the darkness that was behind her eyelids.


	2. Chapter 1

Title: Promised  
Author: KurtCouper  
Rating: R  
Pairing(s): Spike/Dawn Friendship, maybe more  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.  
Summary: Spike promised two years ago that it was her and him until the end of the world. But Spike lied and Dawn can't seem to forget that.

A/N: This is WIP as of now. There's talk of drug use, alcohol abuse, and sex references in this fic.

A/N: This is AU. Spike is not souled nor did he rape Buffy. This is set two years from the middle-ish of season 6. He and Buffy continue to sleep together. And Dawn is a senior in high school at 18.

-----

**Chapter 1**

_"Looks like I've lost my will to carry on, my friend" she said  
And you can hear it in my whispered cries for love  
I need your blissful touch to carry me away again  
So can we roll tonight, roll through your desert, can we start over and just run away_

Run Away- Live

So when Buffy meant grounding, she truly means grounding. Never before in Dawn's life has a consequence ever been doled out as harsh and as strict as the one that was over her now. Normally the punishment would last a few days, or maybe even hours, until it was forgotten. But the brunette key should have realized that with the evil Kennedy constantly around Buffy, reminding the Head Slayer of Dawn's time, that life would not be easy. At the moment Dawn was doing, what seemed her tenth load of laundry amongst-at least- another ten more.

It still amazed her, though, how little she saw the scoobies and slayerettes. An apocalypse must be in the works because they seemed to be constantly away, training and researching. The brunette saw them sometimes, passed out on the bedroom floor, snoring heavily from exhaustion. It was during these times, the house quiet and still, when Dawn felt alive. She would hoard herself into her room, a handle of vodka and a neatly rolled joint in each hand. After she starts to feel good, she'd sneak out of the front door and walk boldly down the street looking for a challenge. But with the marijuana running through her system, she'd forget her reason for escaping and end up back on her front porch with a cigarette in hand.

"I need a cigarette," Dawn complained, interrupting her thoughts. Her body was jittery from her addiction, which she had off-and-oned with since before her mother died. After her death, Dawn felt too guilty, but then once her sister died, there didn't seem a point.

Groaning, the eighteen year old threw her hands into the air. She was so frustrated. "Lights and dark be damned!" she claimed before shoving in the most random pile of clothes that even set foot in a washer.

"That's not the spirit," Spike smirked as he stood languidly at the bottom of the stairs. The vampire paused a moment before he slowly stalked his way closer to her. His movements were slow, and an unknown viewer would just see this as predatory, but Dawn knew he was anxious. Nervous.

Good.

Dawn turned her body toward him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She was not in the mood; not that she was ever in the mood for the bleached blonde wonder. "What do you want?"

The blonde vampire shrugged disinterestedly and put his body weight against a nearby beam. It was close enough to be too _close_ for Dawn, but faraway enough for her not able to hit him. "Got babysittin' duty while the Big Sis is out," he simply said.

Infuriated, Dawn turned back to the laundry and shoved a fistful of shirts into the wash. Pouring a cupful of detergent, the brunette slammed the lid of the washer and listened happily as the noise reached her ears. She just couldn't believe Buffy. Spike? With all the SIT's and then Xander or at least Willow... but Spike. Spike?

"Goddammit!" she cursed as she kicked the washing machine.

"Go easy there, bi-," he reprimanded. And she threw him a deadly look. He wasn't allowed to call her his niblit, bit, or bite sized anymore. It was the first thing she had gotten straight with the abandoning vampire when he started to act chummy with her months ago. He also wasn't allowed to be her friend-ever.

"Look, _Dawn_" Spike said, emphasizing her name delicately, but it didn't seem to placate her in any sense. "I know-"

Dawn angrily braced the washer and breathed deeply through her lungs. She really didn't understand what he didn't just _get_. The ex-key had threatened him with lighting him on fire if he had ever talked to her again. Did the bastard listen? No.

Maybe she should go get her Zippo.

"I don't fucking care," she slipped out, her eyes shut from the headache that was sneaking upon her. Maybe it was just his presence that sent her brain into a throbbing mass of gray matter. Or maybe she just needed to get the hell out of there.

He just didn't get it, didn't understand why she was infuriated. And how hard was it to understand abandonment replaced with hardcore fucking of her older sister? And how _dare_ he even think he can start a conversation with her. After everything... 

"You don't get to talk to me anymore," Dawn spit, her mouth set to steel and her eyes cold and harsh. Spike cocked his head; eyes squinted, and opened his mouth. She shook her head and threw up her hands. "Don't even look at me or... or...matter of fact, don't even _think_ of me." Her hands were shaking, her body numb. She couldn't think properly. All she wanted to do was get out. Get out of this confining basement and the presence of Spike. Get out of this confining town so she could finally breathe.

Turning to leave the stagnant atmosphere, Dawn was stopped by the chilled hand of Spike gripping her wrist. There was a distinct pressure that he exhorted on her arm. Her head whipped around, hair flying, and she stared him dead in the eyes.

"Don't ever touch me again."

As he quickly released her wrist as if she burned him, Dawn stared at her offended arm. A frost-like cold lingered deep in her tissues, almost seeming to the bone. The brunette could faintly see the ghostly outline of his thin fingers settled into her skin. His touch never used to be that cold, she realized. Never used to be chill her insides and make her skin pucker with goose bumps.

Thinning her lips, Dawn slowly turned her focus upwards. To actually take him in for the first time. She must have grown in the years that he wasn't talking to her, when she must have gotten that invisible disease, because she only had to tilt her head up a mere degree to see his face. She remembered times before _That_ Summer when he would promise her that she wasn't evil and embrace her tight and her head reached his chest and she could breathe him in. His eyes were glazed over, looking slightly past her. But they were different as well. Not as bright, his cerulean eyes almost seemed dull. Lifeless. His platinum hair was longer than she remembered it ever being before with dark roots on top of that. Even his skin had a sallow tinge to it. Face gaunt, his body mirrored it. His clothes hung loosely on his body. He looked blatantly bad, and dare she even say, old.

The brunette was mildly shocked at the appearance of her ex-vampire friend. And it disturbed her. Deeply. Catching his ghostly eyes, the two made a contact that she wasn't ready for. His lips faded into a furrowed frown. Needing to get out for the second time in nearly five minutes, Dawn turned to leave and was thankful that he didn't stop her. She didn't even glance back as she closed the basement door behind her with finality that she wasn't sure if she meant.

It was a quick return to her room as she anxiously paced on the carpet. Her skin itched in a way that she wasn't sure she's ever experienced. Deep down in the marrow of her bones, she felt _something_. What, she didn't know, but she felt it and it was all Dawn could do not to tear her skin off.

"Feels like a bad trip," Dawn muttered to herself as she tried to breathe. But she knew there was nothing in her system because the last time she took shrooms was at least two months ago. "Hmmm..."

Not bothering to even shut her door as she jetted out of her room, Dawn raced down the stairs to the front door. Not even thinking twice about grounding or Spike or rules or anything, she excited the house.

* * *

I hope you guys really enjoy this. Dawn is this way because, well, this is where I am in my life right now.Dawn reflects me and this helps me to get it out. So sorry if it's OoC. Read and Review! 3KC

* * *


	3. Chapter 2

Title: Promised  
Author: KurtCouper  
Rating: R  
Pairing(s): Spike/Dawn Friendship, maybe more  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.  
Summary: Spike promised two years ago that it was her and him until the end of the world. But Spike lied and Dawn can't seem to forget that.

A/N: This is WIP as of now. There's talk of drug use, alcohol abuse, and sex references in this fic.

A/N: This is AU. Spike is not souled nor did he rape Buffy. This is set two years from the middle-ish of season 6. He and Buffy continue to sleep together. And Dawn is a senior in high school at 18.

-----

**Chapter 2**

_I feel so much better  
Now that you're gone forever  
I tell myself that I don't miss you at all  
I'm not lying, denying that I feel so much better now  
That you're gone forever_

Gone Forever- Three Days Grace

It wasn't until 3 blocks had passed until Dawn realized that the sun was setting. The slight chill to the air brought her attention to the horizon, where she wondered just when the last time she paid attention to anything so natural and magnificent. It had been a while, Dawn realized as she continued to stroll down the street, her thin shirt doing nothing to protect from the wind. Rubbing her arms helplessly to rid away the goose bumps, the brunette stopped to catch her reflection; it startled her. Gone was the baby fat that used to keep her cheeks chubby and her face round. Instead, her face had filled out, sunk onto the bone. It was pale as well, clashing with her dark eyes and ashy-rose colored lips. Fed up and feeling foolishly vain, Dawn continued on the street.

Without realizing it, the ex-Key had ended up by a hangout that she frequently hung at. She was not one to pass up an invitation when one arose; she briskly reached for shelter and smiled softly as the smell of smoke and the crack of the cue balls hitting their targets slowly floated to her senses. It didn't take too long until she reached the makeshift bar and grinned at the bartender.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Dawn," the younger man said as he already grabbed a beer.

"Miss me?" she winked. She took a quick scan of the people around the room. Once she spotted that he was handing her the bottle, her smile intensified. "You know me too well, Benny." Slapping two dollars on the table, she left to nurse her beer and watch people play pool.

She felt better, being in her element and just getting out of the house. Sometimes the emptiness surrounded her until she felt she couldn't breathe. It was thick and intense and strangled her like tar sticking to her lungs. And being around Spike didn't help because all she could remember were memories of how she would just turn to him and he would _know_ and then he'd help her through it. But he had left her and exposed her to the harsh world too early and he didn't save her. Always thought he'd save her, but never did come when she needed him. Never was too good at that when Buffy came back. Both had each other's attention and none was directed towards her when she needed it. There was no one to tell her that boys could eat your alive or how tequila makes your clothes come off or the harsh reality of withdrawal. They both left her to drown and Spike most of all because he promised. He _promised_. Promisedpromisedpromised. And that's the most sobering thought-the realization that there is no one else but you in the world.

It was hard in the beginning, to realize that she had no one but herself. There were no friends, no family. The hardest part was the ignoring; how the brunette could go on for at least three weeks until someone spoke words directly towards her or how she had forgot what physical contact felt like. It was easier to get away with things then, when she felt like she just _needed_ to reconnect and act out for the attention she _deserved_. But sometimes there's no one there to pick you up from the police station at 4 in the morning and then you understand that they're not going to save you. So Dawn gave up on her conquest. It was better that way anyway. She had already been disappointed too much. There was hardly any hope in her anyway.

It seems as if she's been decaying since _That_ summer. Like once Buffy-jumped-a button was pushed in her body to decompose. With Spike, the loneness didn't echo as much as it does now. It didn't burn as bad or take as much liquor to quell down the cold. But now? Oh god, even her arms seem empty. This sad depression that had sunk in wasn't just teenage angst, a wet blanket. Instead, it was carved deep down in her soul and this loneliness ached _so_ bad that she thought she'd just burst.

Because he promised. He promisedhepromisedhepromised. And then he left, to get some fucking ass from her sister, no less. She knows it's the only reason why he stayed with her-for _Buffy_. Even in her head, her sister's name tasted of acid.

Because he promised. He promised.

"He promised," the brunette found herself whispering into the stale air of the pool hall.

As she continued to sip on her sixth beer, Dawn was feeling the sludge in her brain come forward. She loved the drunk loopy feeling her head got every time she knocked back a few. It made her feel at peace from the aching in her body at least for a little while. But the alcohol seemed to brake through the walls that she had continuously built and built and built because some things just can break her down so easily. And it wasn't until she felt a hand on her shoulder that she realized she had slight tear tracks run down from her eyes.

"Come on Dawn. Let's get you home," came the voice of Benny. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. It was slight and watery, but a smile nonetheless. He was always there to make sure she didn't make a mess of herself.

"It's okay, Benny. I can take it from here," she assured and took the last swallow of beer from the bottle. It went straight to her head as she tried to stand, but denied Benny's help anyway. He's seen her worse off, knows she has it in her to handle just six beers. But six beers sure do taste different with only a packet of crackers to tide her over.

He walked her to the door and she gave him a grateful hug before she was on her way to go home. She had a great deal of respect for Benny, and maybe sparkings of a crush. He kissed her on the top of her head, ruffling her hair sweetly as he did so. Her head turned to see him, through half-lidded eyes, and she let out a long, pure lip smile. Turning her way towards her house, she had a heavy stomach that seemed to turn as she continued to stumble on the potholes. Spike would probably be fucking her sister by now, she thinks idly and then scuffs to the ground from a twig laying on the road. With her knees connected to the asphalt, she braced herself with shaky arms. Her stomach turned again, so she rested her forehead against the ground to try to steady the unsteady world. But with her stomach already sick with hate and beer, she just stayed there and emptied out her stomach.

The gravel was harsh on her knees and hands and it's times like these that Dawn wish she would have at least eaten something. Her stomach, still foul, gurgles and tells her to just lay there. So she does. The dampness seeps into her clothes, but she doesn't really pay any more attention to anything except the waves of sickness in her stomach. Her head felt too heavy, but Dawn tried to breathe. As she took a slow inhale, she squinted her eyes into the dark horizon of the street. It was littered with an oddly beauty. Turning to her side, she slowly rolled her body up and stood solid on her two feet again.

It wasn't long until Dawn made her way back to her house. But all she wanted was a shower to get the thick soot of smoke and the stench of beer off of her skin. Just thinking about the combination was making her stomach turn again. And it wouldn't be too difficult to just open the goddamn door, but the keys not fitting into the hole. Looking up at the door, Dawn realized that this was their neighbors house.

"Fuck," she curses to the air and her own drunken stupidity.

As she crawled to her house, her feet had given up walking, she could tell she tore a bit of skin on her palm against the sidewalk. Moving to the grass damp with dew, the ground made it difficult for her to get complete traction. She fell, her body hard and aching, four times on the grass before she finally made it up to the stairs. With the support of the railing, she was able to half-walk, half-near-about-fall until she got to the door. Her stomach flipped as she inserted the key into the door. Knowing she just needed to sit down because she was spinning too fast with the spinning world. And why didn't it slow down just a little bit? So she slid down until her bottom hit the ground and brought a shaky hand to cradle her stomach. Her eyes still swim with tears that she didn't mean to shed at the bar and she doesn't want to let them out. But he did promise, she realizes as they fill her eyes. Oh he promisedpromisedpromisedpromised.

She can't stop the tears from fully flowing now, but she can't feel them. Not really. Her face is too numb from the beer and her body is too empty to truly care anyway. But her weight seems to pull to the left side and she can't seem to stop it. It's slow, but in her head it feels too fast as if she's losing control and is going to fall off the ship. As if she's going to fall into the cold, dark sea alone.

"But he promised, he promised. He promised," she repeats and realized she hasn't eaten anything in two days. Beer hits stomachs too hard on an empty stomach. "He Promised."

_Now things are coming clear  
And I don't need you here  
And in this world around me  
I'm glad you disappeared  
So I'll stay out all night  
Get drunk and fuck and fight  
Until the morning comes I'll  
Forget about our life  
_

So I hope your guys enjoyed this. And tell me how you want it to end. I've got a couple ways it could go.  
PS: This was one of my favorite chapters to write so far.

Thanks! -KC

* * *


	4. Chapter 3

Title: Promised  
Author: KurtCouper  
Rating: R  
Pairing(s): Spike/Dawn Friendship, maybe more  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.  
Summary: Spike promised two years ago that it was her and him until the end of the world. But Spike lied and Dawn can't seem to forget that.

-----

**Chapter 3**

_Yeah, I used to be a devil but they never seemed to give a damn._

_Her Brand New Skin_-Everclear

Sometime during the middle of the night, Dawn must have finally unlocked the door and tumbled into her room where she passed out for 12 and a half hours. Must have, because there she is, devoured into her bed, her head too heavy to even roll over. Her mouth taste like cigarettes and beer, and it's dry. It's so dry that she'd kill a man for a gallon of water, but as she finds an old bottle of water under her bed, she knows she has to sip it slowly. Either way, the water hits her stomach hard and she rolls back in her bed to snuggle into her comforter.

The security it gives her only works for so long. The raging headache penetrates her sleepy mind and the stomach ache returns. She can't remember how she got here, in her bed. But she has a big t-shirt on, yet she was still in her bra. Her hands slowly shake and she it's not from the temperature. Needing a nicotine fix, Dawn mustered up the energy to overcome her sickness. She was sure a cigarette could cure all anyway. Slowly walking toward her window, Dawn crawled against the sill and pulled out a cigarette pack from under a nearby pillow.

Her body dangled from the open window calmly as she rested on the window casing. The menthol tasted smooth in the back of her throat as she inhaled. It seemed to be the only thing in her body that didn't hurt. Her palms were caked with bits of blood from scraped skin. Muscles ached in her stomach from straining while vomiting. Looking down her thin, long legs, all Dawn could see was yellowed and purpled skin-bruises from where she crawled and fell. But even so, that drag of the cigarette seemed to make it all feel better.

She didn't remember much, which seemed to be happening lately. It's not as if she'd get too trashed and blacked out. Instead, it seems as if her brain might be rotten through by her recreational drug use, paired with a prescription pills and alcohol duo. The brunette remembered going to the bar where men kept sending over beers. One guy, if she recollected correctly, even had the guts to strike up a conversation and ask for her number; she quickly shot him a look that sent him running. The next thing she remembers is crawling onto her neighbor's porch and then barely making it onto her own.

The sun was close to setting. The sky was a blood orange, clashing against the paleness of her skin. For two days, she had admired the sunset which was more than she had done in two months. It made for peaceful scenery to smoke her pains away.

Dawn heard the front door slam rather quickly; the sound seeming to make all the walls rattle. She wasn't quite sure who it was, so she flicked the rest of her cigarette out of her window, and decided to find out.

"Hello?" she called into the hallway from behind her cracked door. The brunette didn't like the sound of her voice. It sounded to weak and detached as it echoed against the walls.

No one answered.

The silence seemed to ease the Ex-Key, so she decided on a shower. It was the one thing she truly wanted last night, but passed out before she could achieve it. Her body stilled reeked of cigarettes and beer and the grime seemed so thick that only a good exfoliation could make her clean. And she thanked whatever gods that were above that the house was empty as well as the shower. With all of the SITs constantly just _around_ it was hardly never when there was a silent echo. She didn't even care why the house was empty. And the hot water felt so good against her sore muscles.

She moaned when she put shampoo in her hair, the liquid burning the scrapes on her palm. But the pain made her remember how much of a screw up she was. How normal teenage girls didn't spend their time in bars, making friends with the bartender to squeeze beers out of him. It wasn't natural to know how to swing your hips just the right way to get that man in the corner to buy her a drink. But she seemed to strive on that, that sharp pain of her mistakes, of being dirty.  
While rinsing out her hair, her stomach flipped again. It made her skin turn cold and she knew she would have to empty her stomach of the beer soon. And it would probably be good. Maybe this alcohol, even if it was only in her stomach, was depressing her senses. It was a depressant after all and she couldn't seem to control the way her eyes teared up. This sadness was so strong, drowning her like the water that was cascading down on her.

"I'm so tired of this sadness," she whispered to herself.

Her head rushed with a dizziness that she didn't know her mind held. Dawn couldn't tell if it was the stomach ache, but she suddenly felt as if the world had split into two. Breathing in slowly, Dawn steadied herself as best as she could while soaping up her body. It was getting rid of the dirt and grime and it felt just so good.

"Fuck," she cried exasperated as the bar of soap slipped out of her wet hands. It swirled to the drain.

As she leaned forward to grab the soap, she felt her head swim again. But as soon as she grabbed a hold of it, the brunette became top heavy and lost her footing. Dawn couldn't even catch herself on the slippery shower wall. Her head sickly collided with the faucet, knocking a large gash into her forehead. It wasn't long before she found herself face down against the tub.

Before her eyes fluttered shut, all she saw was a swirl of red going down into the drain.

---------------  
Only two more chapters left!! I know you're excited!!  
-KC

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	5. Chapter 4

Title: Promised  
Author: KurtCouper  
Rating: R  
Pairing(s): Spike/Dawn Friendship, maybe more  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.  
Summary: Spike promised two years ago that it was her and him until the end of the world. But Spike lied and Dawn can't seem to forget that.

-----

**Chapter 4**

_I'm in a car underwater with time to kill  
Thinking back I forgot to tell you this  
I didn't care that you left and abandoned me  
What hurts more is I would still die for you_

_Make time slower; Give me longer  
It's too late for me  
No one will know that I'm down here  
And believe your dreams of me sinking so far below  
You can't pull me up from here, so don't try_

_Car Underwater_- Armor for Sleep

"Dawn."

The brunette moved her mouth as if she was trying to speak, but nothing would come out. Her body was shaking and she was cold. But she couldn't tell if she truly registered the temperature.

"Come on, baby."

She felt herself being held by cold, strong hands. But, where she was... it was so dark. And she was wet.

"I didn't risk my arse for you last night just for you to knock yourself out in the loo. Come back to me."

Slowly, her eyes fluttered back into consciousness; everything was intensely bright. But she could make out a figure in front of her, holding her and shaking her roughly. Even semi-conscious, Dawn could tell it was Spike. His mouth was moving, meaning he was talking, but she couldn't hear him. Blinking her eyes, Dawn raised a shaky hand to his lips to shut them.

As soon as she made physical contact with him, it was if everything came rushing back at her. She remembered how much she hated Spike. She remembered her fatal slip. She remembered drinking a bit too much on an empty stomach. It was then she realized that she was still in the shower, naked, with water still dribbling onto her. Spike, too, was squatted into the tub, his body above hers. A thick headache penetrated her skull then-throbbing and throbbing and throbbing.

She was hurting, physically and emotionally. If she hurt before her shower, then she didn't even know what she felt now. The Ex-Key wasn't too sure how long she had been lying in the bottom of the tub. She guessed a few hours by the way her skin was extremely chilled; they must have run out of hot water. Looking up, she realized that Spike was still talking. He looked ragged and tired. Most of his clothes were soaked through with water. She hadn't been this close to him in a long time. Their faces were hardly a foot a part and his arms were supporting her dead weight in an almost-hug. It made her reminisce about the old days.

The craving to just cuddle into his arms and let him take care of her was immense. Not that he would, she reprimanded. She couldn't ever see herself and Spike ever being like they were _that_ Summer. He was Buffy's now, tainted. Forever a fuck toy. But the couple of years since he's been away, she's changed. Things were different for her and him. Taking a deep breath, Dawn forced the nostalgia away and closed her eyes to try to pick up the words he was saying.

"...death. We have to get you warm..."

With listening to his words, Dawn tried to break free of his grasp; she didn't want him to touch her anymore. But he was too strong and she was too weak. He kept pulling her out of the tub with him, but she didn't want him to see her, touch her. This was far too intimate. There was once a time when she wanted him to know her body like this and when he did. But now, now she was covered in bruises and grime and it's been too long since he's seen her scars.

"Get your hands off me," she moaned, her words jumbled and shaky-just like her. She noticed that he shut off the water. "I'm fine. Just fine."

Spike let her go and she tumbled back into the tub. Her head hit the back of the fiberglass, but it didn't do too much damage besides the echoing sound it made. As a cry escaped her lips, she clawed her way from the tub, gripping the edge as if it was her life line. The brunette kept telling herself that she could do this. It didn't take too much to exit out of a tub, but her muscles were tired and weak and the world was still a bit spiny. But as she took her time, she was able to lift her legs over the edge and firmly sit her weight against the lip.

The brunette felt so bare against the vampire's accusing gaze. It was almost as if he was looking right through her. Being naked, though, did not help. Dawn just knew he was musing about the things that he'd seen with her body, the bruises, her scars, her ribs. Ignoring the pain, she huddled into her self and tried to cover her body as best as she could. She knew it wasn't a big deal to Spike, the Don Juan of Vampires. He's seen millions of naked bodies-men, women, and demons alike. But it wasn't her bare body that bothered her, it was that INTIMATE factor. It made those dirty feelings return.

"Here," he said as he threw her a large towel to cover herself with. She gratefully took it and wrapped her shivering body with it.

Dawn could tell he wanted to scream at her. It was his body language that did him end. He barely blinked, his lips pursed. Even his body was tight, muscles tensed. But it was his breathing that gave him away. He only breathed when he didn't know what else to do, counting breathes to calm himself as well as pass by the time. His fingers picked at the last bit of black polish residing on his nails. And Dawn understood. She understood too much. This situation was too tense and too emotionally draining. A cigarette was definitely needed.

"Can I have one?" she asked when he reached in his pocket for a cigarette. She could tell he was going to say no. His face was stern and harsh. She wasn't even sure he knew she smoke. "If you open the window, you can't smell it." He sighed, did as she said, and threw her his pack. She lit it easy and inhaled the harsh Marlboro. Holding the cigarette in a slightly shaky right hand, the brunette had to brace the bottom of her arm with the other.

It immediately calmed her nerves.

Dawn fixed Spike a look. He was still looking off into the distance, distracted and just smoking. As he exhaled his own drag and eerie stance overtook him. Detached, he said, "You might need stitches."

Wrapped tight in the towel, Dawn slowly dragged herself to the bathroom counter and stared into the mirror. Because she was still shaky and her vision blurry, she crawled up onto the counter and rested her body along side of the mirror and her back towards Spike. The Ex-Key traced the large gash on the mirror that shone brightly against her overly pale skin. It was a few inches from her temple on the right side of her face and nearly three inches long. Blood was crusted into her hairline as well and she even had a slight split lip where she landed head first.

"I'll be fine," she whispered, not too sure. The angry cut was sore to the touch and needed a good cleaning. It took another repeating for herself to actually believe it.

She rested her face against the mirror, glad that Spike was behind her. Dawn didn't know what to do, or say. He was bound to explode any minute, she was sure of it. It wasn't too long until she heard him finish his cigarette. With a sigh, he stubbed the butt out and threw it out the window. She tried to busy herself with a washcloth to clean her wound; the brunette didn't want to pay any attention to him. But as he walked by her, he inched off his damp t-shirt. Before he left the bathroom, he turned to catch her eye.

"Now don't _ever_ say that I soddin' break promises."

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One more chapter left!! I loved this part of the story.

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	6. Chapter 5

Title: Promised  
Author: KurtCouper  
Rating: R  
Pairing(s): Spike/Dawn Friendship, maybe more  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.  
Summary: Spike promised two years ago that it was her and him until the end of the world. But Spike lied and Dawn can't seem to forget that.

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**Chapter 5**  
_  
Tell me baby what's your story?  
Where do you come from  
And where you wanna go this time?  
Your so lovely. Are you lonely?  
Giving up on the innocence you left behind_

Tell Me Baby- Red Hot Chili Peppers

It was a while before Dawn got enough courage to leave the bathroom. It was times like these where a good few shots would give her some balls to corner Spike and ask him what the fuck he was talking about. Liquor and drugs had become her liquid courage these few years and without it the brunette wasn't much of anything. Anxiety pitted in her stomach until she decided to leave the bathroom to fix herself up.

With a nice slab of antibacterial cream, Dawn covered the gash with a large band aid. The split lip was harder to conceal, so she just patted on a saturated lip color that hid the cut. Sliding on a pair of old jeans to hide her banged up body, she paired it with a black long sleeve shirt. Looking into the mirror she realized how ridiculous she looked. It's not as if Spike hasn't just seen all of her and there was no use hiding because Buffy wouldn't even notice or care. With the back of her hand, she wiped the lip color off of her lips and just let her wet hair tangle its way down her back.

What Spike had said to her constantly played through her mind- promises. Was he just bluffing? Or did she take a detour to Spike's crypt to claim her undying hate for him? Or maybe did he pass by her and hear her teary, drunken tirade? She wasn't too sure, but she didn't really want to think about it.

It was times like these when she craved to be 13 again and have the ability to just _ignore_ things.

Walking down the stairs, each step was agonizing. Once the brunette reached the bottom step, she realized that it doesn't really matter. Who cares what Spike thinks and what is the worse he could do? Taking a deep breath. she turned towards the kitchen and decided to put some food in her stomach. It had been days and food would probably help settle her stomach.

As she entered the kitchen, she caught eyes immediately with Spike. He was resting against the opening of the back door, a cigarette in hand. The brunette could tell he was tense which was mutual. She licked her lips out of anxiety, dragging it through her teeth. She didn't want to have to speak first.

After a few seconds, he threw his cigarette pack at her again. "These aren't menthols, but a fix is a fix."

Throwing him a skeptical glance, she caught his zippo that he threw at her and swiftly lit the cigarette. How did he know what she smoked? While she exhaled, she sized him up. What more was he not telling her?

"Is there an apocalypse that no one's telling me about?" she asked throatily-testing the waters.

He huffed, flicking his butt out into the yard and turned to the refrigerator. "Don't think startin' a little chat will distract me, Dawn." He grabbed a two beers and slid one towards her. Giving her a pointed look, he popped off his beer cap. "We've gotta have a talk."

Not even letting him second guess his choice, she twisted off the cap and started to chug. Dawn didn't know what he wanted to say. she was sure it revolved around her falling in the shower and perhaps her walking out issue of last night. But whatever he wanted to tell her was going to be a whole lot easier if she had not only her liquid courage, but had the flippant attitude that a couple beers does to her. "Really now? A talk?"

He squinted his eyes and pointed the neck of his beer at her. "Don't get smart with me, bit. With a few words to the Big Sis, you'd be on the next bus ride to boot camp."

"Boot camp, huh?" she asked, snarling as she finished the beer. It was a bit pale for her taste, but beer is beer. "Don't talk to me like you care, Spike. It's disconcerting." She pushed him out of her way to grab another beer.

"That's the problem, Dawn! I care too much," he roared.

The brunette scoffed and continued to drown her second beer. "Are you kidding me?" she cried. "Maybe you should stop lying to yourself, Spike." Taking a deep breath, she looked him straight in the eye."You haven't cared about me since Buffy came back and you found a piece of ass that was fuck worthy enough." Maybe the beer was going straight to her head. She really _did_ need to eat.

Growling, Spike pushed her body against the refrigerator. His body was pressed against hers, using more of his weight to intimidate her."Don't talk about your sister like that," he threatened while his fingers dug into the meaty flesh of her arms.

"Or what, Spike?" she taunted, still sipping beer. Maybe the liquid would help quell this fluttering in her stomach that she couldn't call anxiety. "Are you going to tie me up? Or is that more of my sister's game?" she grinned, hoping to disgust. He pushed harder against her arms as if warning her. "I bet it feels so good to get inside some hot flesh, huh?" She cried out when he continued to bruise her arms. Because she couldn't break free, Dawn wiggled her body around. Unsuccessful, she thrusted her hips towards his in order to get free and gyrated her pelvis around.

"Stop," he growled and moved his arm to her windpipe in order to keep her under control. She was still straining under his pressure, thrashing against him.

"See Spike," she cried, her skin tight under his hands. "You've never cared about me." Becoming tired, she rested her weight against the fridge. "You're more worried about Buffy's-"

The grip on her throat became tighter until she was at a bare whisper. Eventually she gave up and merely stared up at him. He had an incredible amount of strength in him, more so than a weak teenager who hasn't had more than beer in her stomach in what seems like forever. Closing her eyes, she let all sorts of emotions through her. It was like before in the tub when he was holding her.

"I care more than you know, Dawn," he whispered once she settled down. He ran his thumb against the crack in her lip that had opened again when she was struggling. "True, it took me too bloody long to figure it out," he admitted as he eased up on the pressure. Removing his arm from her windpipe, he took his hand to push back fallen tendrils of hair. "And I don't know why I didn't soddin' see it-how far gone you were. But it occurred to me when I saw you at the Bronze one night, 'bout six months ago. You were actin' funny, little loony in the head. Decided to follow you, I did, to see what was going on. That night...that night you od'ed on a drug/alcohol combo. Cor, love, I'd never been so scared in my bloody life. Found you passed out in some bus stop and took you to the hospital." He took a deep breath and wiped away a tear that was silently sliding down her face. "Since then, I've been keeping updates. Benny, that bartender you liked so well, was 'working' for me. Kept tabs and told me when you'd been drinking and such. I knew you had already washed your hands of me, so I had to be sneaky..."

Dawn was silent for a while, not knowing what to say. In shock, the brunette stared off into space. But he was still touching her and it made her consciously aware of _him_ and his monologue he just gave.

"But you've ignored me..for years" she said quietly, trying to distance herself away from him. She watched him lick his lips slowly and run his hands through his hair.

Spike shook his head. "No pet, it's not-"

Interrupting him, the brunette placed a quivering hand against his chest. "No, Spike. You abandoned me." Getting enough distance, she was able to escape his hovering body and retracted towards the sink to grab herself a glass of water. "And a couple months of check-in calls with Benny isn't going to fix that!" Sipping the water to calm her nerves, she pointed a finger at him. "For two years, Spike-_two years_-I've been non-existent to you, to Buffy. Everyone. And this-this." She took a deep breath. "And it was horrible. All of my darkest moments were shared _alone_ because you were too busy fucking my sister."

"Dawn," he sighed and tried to follow her across the island. "It wasn't like that," he pleaded. She locked eyes with him and he whispered, "Please."

"No," the brunette cried. She was becoming mentally worn out with him. Dawn didn't understand what he was trying to prove. "You abandoned me! You all did." Seeing that he was ready to speak, she quickly sped up. "Where were you, Spike, when I got caught shoplifting in the mall? Or when I drank a drugged drink and woke up in some stranger's bed? Or where were you, Spike, when I lost my virginity to some guy who I don't even know and cried for days and days afterwards?" Her eyes were soaked with tears, but she tried not to shed them. Dawn didn't want him to have any satisfaction. Brining up these secrets that she hadn't shared to anyone was too difficult. She felt naked, bared, and stripped in front of him. "But you were there when I od'ed? That's great. Because I still felt alone-just like any other time." Her voice was loud and strong and she was breathing heavy.

Without realizing it, Dawn had let Spike corner her against the sink. One palm was pressed into her cheek while the other was balancing his weight on the counter. She felt so suffocated by so much attention; Dawn was only used to such things when she was drunk and with boys her age.

"Love," he blew softly. "I never meant-"

Closing her eyes, Dawn ignored the way his skin felt against hers. It wasn't as cold as it was a couple days ago. Instead it seemed to heat up her face. Sighing, she said, "Where were you spike when I _really_ needed you?" His hand traveled up into her hair. his nimble fingers twiddling in her brunette waves. She leaned into his embrace and closed her eyes. Dawn missed this; missed him. Subtle, like his care, it made her feel as if everything was okay again. Opening her eyes, she realized it wasn't "okay again" and she didn't know if it would really ever be. "But you promised-you _promised_ that it was you and me until the end of the world."

Spike drew her into a hug, which Dawn was too weak to deny. His body echoed the heat that ran through her body and it surrounded her in an odd sense of comfort. One hand was still in her hair, massaging her scalp and touching her neck, while the other dipped down onto her back where he gently rubbed her shirt. It would be so easy, again, to just let herself cave into this feeling. But, if there was one thing she had learned during her abandonment, it was to never trust anyone.

"I know, baby, I know," he whispered into her hair. "I'm a git, pet. A true tosser."

Her body tensed from his pet names, recoiling into a tight ball. Baby? The last guy who called her that was strung out on a speedball and groping her in all the wrong places. As she slowly, almost sadly, departed from his embrace, she sighed. "Spike..." the brunette groaned.

Leaving her rest against the counter top once again, Spike went to the refrigerator to retrieve a beer. Dawn watched his movements, so sleek and graceful, and wondered why he was so intent on this confrontation. It was too hard to believe him after he continued and continued to hurt her. Thoughts pierced her mind and swam around: What if he was just playing her, to break her down more? What if she was the new dog toy and in a few days he'd run off to Buffy once he's bored? He moved back toward her and she stared at him as he did so. He still seemed old to her, tired almost. She wondered if she did this to him, but debated that it was more Buffy. She was sure she didn't mean enough to Spike to fully wear him out.

He handed the beer to her as a peace offering and pushed a few pieces of hair from her face. "I don't think it will ever be the same," she whispered into the bottle after she took a large swallow. And to be truthful, she wasn't too sure if he was worth working to get better, worth working for.

While continuing to sip at the beverage he gave her, she thought about where she was a few days ago. Depressed, angry, and hollow, Dawn was settled deep into a self-hatred that seemed unfathomably to escape from. Just a hug and a few chummy beers from the vampire would never be enough to fix this giant crack in her soul. And she really doesn't know if she could be fixed; long ago she labeled herself as broken to the point of no return.

"I just don't know what to do," she whispered to herself, torn and wary.

She guessed he sensed her inner battle and scooped her up again in his comforting hold. With an arm slung over her shoulders, their body fitting next to each other like a lock and _the_ key, she felt more serene. This is what she had wanted from the vampire for years, what she had longed for. And it wasn't too long before she truly settled and let herself relax in his arms.

As soon as she became comfortable, he quickly flipped her body around so she was facing him. Dawn was surprised by the movement and the secure feeling of his heavy hands on her waist. This was a different sensation then their bodies fitting together. Now there was a pit in the bottom of her stomach that fluttered to and fro with the rhythm of her heart. His eyes burned into hers with an intense fire. Squealed

"Now do you know what to do?" he huskily returned. He bent his head with his lips near his ear."Forgive me, love?" she heard him whisper, his moist breath blowing past her ear and sending chills down her spine. One hand braced the back of her head as he rested his forehead against hers. They were too close, she realized, because all Dawn could see was the sincerity in his cerulean eyes. He was breathing with her like he used to when he would hold her, as if it would make them one-sharing the same essence. "I never meant to break my promise."

"Well," she mumbled against his nose as her fevered palms roamed his back, "Breaking a promise of such magnitude deserves a long, hard punishment."

He cocked an eyebrow and drew his tongue over his pink lips. "Really now? And what do you have in mind?"

Dawn gave him a wicked smile that for the first time in a while actually reached her eyes. She couldn't get over this pit in her stomach, where a million butterflies seemed to be fluttering and fluttering. But maybe it was the fact that she could actually _feel_ it. She hadn't felt anything this intense in such a long time, hasn't really done anything in a really long time. And she wasn't sure what the whole thing with Spike was but if she could feel something, that had to account for something. Right? "I can think of something."

She squealed when he plucked her up from the floor and spun her around, his arms holding her by her sides while her legs gracelessly swung around the room. He was happy, she guessed, a somewhat grin shining on his face as she stared down from the aerial position she was in. "Put me down," she cried, but he wouldn't. She could only keep her view on him and ignored the spinning world around her. The kitchen was just a blur to her from the combination of the beer and the motion, but she knew if she anchored herself on anything but him, she would probably fall.

He gave one last chuckle as he set her back down, his arms tucked around her protectedly. It was reassuring, the brunette reasoned, to be able to stand firmly back on the ground after the flying she just encountered, even if it was with a little help from Spike.

Dipped low, his head nuzzled the side of her cheek. He felt solid and calm against her skin. "Never forget: it _will_ always be us, baby." He swiftly ran his arm down to the small of her back and led her away from the kitchen, away from the house, away from the town. "You and me until the end of the world."

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This wasn't how I saw the end to my fic, but I wanted to make the readers happy. So I'm sorry if it's awkward or unpolished or something. But I hope you enjoyed this fic and the journey it took to write it.

Thanks again and review!!

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